


Catch a Falling Knife

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, Mention of blood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Thor surprises himself by agreeing so readily when Loki hands him a dagger.





	Catch a Falling Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kereia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kereia/gifts).



"You're not holding it right," Loki says, propped up on his elbows. "Unless your plan is to gut me like an eel."

Thor doesn't say anything, and doesn't turn around so Loki won't see him roll his eyes. Thor is indulging him to highest degree and he still finds a way to be critical. Typical. He wipes down the blade again, just to be sure it's clean.

When he finally turns, spinning the knife in his hand with ease, he gets the very satisfying gift of watching Loki's gaze follow the shine reflected off the knife blade before it catches on the knife itself. Loki swallows hard. Thor bites the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.

There are only a few times when Thor can have anything resembling the upper hand, but this is one of them. Loki spread out naked on the bed under him, hair framing his face on the pillows, skin glistening with sweat from their exertions. And then the whispering starts, hushed and harsh, words hissed out, asking things Thor would never have thought to suggest on his own, but he always finds he wants them too. Loki is creative to a fault, driven by desire and desperation, spurred to the edge of begging.

Thor can't resist, could never deny Loki when he's like this, pressing hands into sensitive places, teeth and lips chasing down skin, and whispered promises of all colours, if only Thor will do this one thing for him. The one thing changes sometimes, or sometimes it's the same for weeks.

Tonight, it's sharp and shining.

Thor surprises himself by agreeing so readily when Loki hands him a dagger.

"Nothing else to say, brother?" he asks, turning the knife in his hand again.

Loki is silent, just his eyelids fluttering closed to indicate he'd heard at all. Thor straddles him, trapping Loki's hips between his thighs, their cocks pressing flush, and settles one hand across his bare chest.

"Stay still," Thor says, as if Loki wasn't pinned comfortably beneath him and looking up through wide, dark eyes with his entire attention wrapped up around the blade. He nudges one of Loki's elbows and watches as his hands automatically slide up the grab at the bed posts. Exactly like they've been practicing.

Thor presses the flat of the blade just under Loki's ribs and sees a satisfying tremble in Loki's arms, though he doesn't let go. "What could I do with this?" he asks, twisting just a hair so the edge bites down against flesh. Thor can feel Loki's cock twitch, trapped between them as it is.

"I could hurt you, couldn't I?"

There's a single drop of blood when Thor lifts the knife again. He brushes it away, leaving a ruby red streak across Loki's pale skin. 

"I could," he says, leaning down, pressing their chests together. Thor drags the tip of the knife down the underside of Loki's arm, then across his collarbone and up under his ear, letting the tip just rest on what he knows is a sensitive spot.

It's tricky, holding the knife steady, balancing on his other hand, and covering Loki's mouth with his own for a messy kiss, but he manages it. Loki is stone-still beneath him, breathing in short pants when Thor backs off before kissing him deeply again and again.

They do all sorts of things, locked away like this in Thor's chambers, some much more wickedly inventive than a mere knife point, but it's rare to see his brother come so far undone. He's affected, strongly, and grinds the length of his hardness against Loki's, moaning loudly and enjoying it.

Loki finally opens his eyes again when Thor sits up and pulls the edge of the blade down the side of his neck, resting again on his collarbone. He makes an undignified sound, somewhere between a groan and gasp, and finally lets go of the bedpost to grip Thor's forearm.

"You can do better," he says to Loki, tracing his jawline with the knife. "Show me."

Loki, always the trickster and hardly ever satisfied, ups the stakes by wrapping his hand around Thor's cock. He blinks, slow and drawn out, and then his gaze sharpens like he's daring Thor to make him move. Thor digs the edge of the blade into the skin at Loki's collarbone, reveling in the sharp squeeze on his cock and the sharp, hissed breath he gets in return.

It's quick work, most of the times when they're together. Loki knows the exact pace, how to twist his wrist, when to slow down, and where to press his thumb. Thor rides it out, letting Loki jack him off while he presses the edge of the knife just hard enough to leave lines criss-crossing across Loki's skin.

He's close to coming when he feels Loki shift his grip, taking his own cock in hand alongside Thor's. He braces himself with his free hand on Loki's shoulder, pressing his brother into the bed with his full weight, and lays the knife straight across his bared throat.

Thor finishes a moment before Loki, spilling come between them. He leans in again, still holding tight to the hilt of the dagger, and kisses Loki again, soft and slow, letting their noses bump together. Loki often gets impatient with Thor's more sentimental moments, but he lets it happen, even kisses back, ghosting his tongue over Thor's bottom lip.

The knife gets discarded carelessly on the floor with a clatter, Thor settling himself by Loki's side and pillowing his head under his arm. Loki barely moves, other than to clean himself with the sheets that had been kicked down earlier.

"Going?" Thor asks him. He frequently does, but not always. There's no pattern to it, ever, because it's Loki.

"Mm. No," Loki murmurs, turning his back to Thor. His breathing evens out to the deep, slow rhythm of rest and Thor watches until his vision gets hazy. He risks the argument it may provoke in the morning and slips his arm around Loki's hip, breathing in the warm, musky smell of sex and skin. Soon, he's lapping at the shores of sleep himself and drifting off. 

In the morning, Loki's gone and the bed is long cold, but his dagger in its sheath is lying neatly on the pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, it's incestuous knifeplay! I didn't know I had it in me either. 
> 
> Happy fandomgiftbox, kereia!


End file.
